


The Suicide of Ian Curtis

by XwAy



Category: Ian Curtis-Joy Divison, Joy Division (Band)
Genre: 1970-1980s United kingdom, 1970s, Bipolar Disorder, Cheating, Depression, Epilepsy, F/M, Mysterious Ian Curtis, Oral Sex, Poetry, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Seizures, Self-Harm, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Touring
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 23:52:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11794065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XwAy/pseuds/XwAy
Summary: This is the story through the eyes of Ian Curtis's mistress, the story of his suicide through her eyes.  She was deeply in love with Ian and his suicide was out of the blue and heartbreaking. This was the life of Ian Curtis through her eyes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I been in love with Ian Curtis for so many years. Unfortunately he died 20 years before I was born.  
> he hung himself and people say it's for different reasons, because he cheated on his wife, or that he kept having epileptic seizures on stage and couldn't perform anymore and he worked so hard on his band. No one will ever know the true reasons why he killed himself, and to give me a little closure I decided to make this fic, in the eyes or his secret lover, the one people say he cheated on his wife with. Nothing in this story is true at all it's just based around true events such as Ian Cheating, his bad, and mental disorders. This is for me and others who feel for the man who took his life so many years ago. Love Will Tear Us Apart again.  
> *this is just the opening. I am working on the actual chapter at this moment I'll try and have a new chapter posted every Friday *

Let me start off by saying it was the 70s. Peace, Love. Never war. LSD, hallucinogenics and let me tell you lots and lots of pot, tie-dye and pretty colors everywhere, everyone trusted everyone and everyone you walked by smiled. It was probably the best time to have ever been alive honestly.  
the music was amazing, everywhere you went there was amazing music playing, in shops, in Parks, cars and even on the city buses. Crime rate was at an all time low in the United Kingdom. I was 19, a college student not anything fancy, it was Community College. My father was a suit. He was a boss at some Pet store company that started to make it big, he wanted better things for me, to become a lawyer or maybe even a doctor, but I never saw myself doing that. I saw myself becoming a poet or a journalist for most of my life. So that's why I found myself in Community College and that's where this all started. This is where I met Ian Curtis. Yes, the famous Ian Curtis who took his life so many years ago. But the part of all this that you wouldn't know was the side of him I did. The side even his wife didn't know, the front man for Joy Division Ian, not the depressed father Ian, which she was so acquainted with, she was his house wife. Nothing more nothing less. I know this sounds like I'm just talking smack on his wife the jealous side lover that was mad at his wife for his suicide. No, I actually didn't and still do not have hard feeling towards Ian's wife. It wasn't her fault what happened. It wasn't anyone's. Enough of me rambling. This is how I met Ian


	2. Chapter 1

"Well Miss Jenkins, it's been about two weeks since the dead line for this project." Mr Smith told me as he leaned back in his expensive looking leather chair. I swear that chair was probably more then my school loans. 

"And I gave you extra time, of course seeing that you have always surpassed your classmates." He took a deep breath in, pushing his glasses up off his nose to the top of his bald head. Making his face sour in disgust. 

"But I can't keep letting this go on, this is no longer high school." 

Well of course it's not. I wouldn't be busting my arse for high school. God it was horrible. 

"So I'm going to give you one more week. One more week for this picture, remember, well of course you remember the topic don't you?" He asked with a slight worry in his eyes. 

Of course I remember the topic.   
It's what's been on my mind for months since he announced it. It was something I been dreading. 

"Yes sir, you wanted us to capture something raw, yet dark something depressing but powerful. Something with fe-"  
He cut me off then   
"CORRECT MISS JENKINS"  
I almost choked at the sudden yelling.   
"I know this was going to be a challenge for you, you're work usually captures love, Adventure, nature."

He looked at me and gave me a toothie grin.   
"And honestly it gets boring."

 

.

 

"Boring?" I thought to myself as I rode my bicycle down the busy streets. I didn't think my work was boring? My work always had bright colors, amazing focus, my mother was even shocked about what I could do. You see I want to be a world famous photographer.

Why did I love photography so much? It captures a time and moment and keeps it forever. That moment will never happen again, but somehow we humans made it so we could steal a moment and place it into some plastic and paper and save that time and place forever. It's beautiful. 

I remember when I was a little girl, my mother bought me my own camera, and once you take a picture on it, it comes out the bottom of the camera, beautifully. Ever since then it has been my dream to become a famous photographer. 

Dark and mysterious in the 1970s? "Ha" I let out to myself and thought about ideas. I've saw some of my classmates work, one of the best students at the top of the class now Val, his photo was black and white. It consisted of a dead bird, with maggots coming out of the poor things mouth. The maggots escaping from the birds mouth as if being born from this dead beautiful animal. The bird was a Blue Jay, it was surrounded by beautiful flowers which were colorless, white and gray. That's mostly all the picture contained. But the real reason behind why this photo was so beautiful is because it was showing both elements of life and death. Life can not be without death. Death can't be without life. They been lovers for years you know. That's another reason why I'm so on edge about this assignment. How can I top Val's work? He was amazing. That bloody Prick. 

The pure anxiety of this was giving me such a bad headache and I was losing my hope. I had to fight for this, if I mess up again I can kiss my dreams goodbye. Everyone knows career paths through art, music, and Photography you had to fight dirty. Nobody was your friend in this game. That's why I stay to myself, I blended in to others, there is nothing very unique about me to stand out so I use that to my advantage. I had long red orangish hair, that was always back in a ponytail. I had straight bangs that made my 19 year old face look 15. I always wore long sleeves even during the summer and of course blue jeans everyday. I had like 50 pairs. I was slim built, not much curves to me like I see the other women my age. 

I stopped by a coffee shop by my house, it was on the way so I just thought why not? It would give me some time to do some planning on what I was going to do. This meant everything to me.

This was my future we are talking about here. If I mess this up, this was worth 75% of my grade. I could kiss being a photographer right out of my hands. 

"And what can I get you mam?" A very perky blonde ask me as I took my seat at a table in the back, she pulled out her note pad and pin.

"Give me the darkest, blackest coffee you possibly can" I said, giving her the same bright smile back that she was giving me. She nodded, jotting down what I said as she walked away to help someone across from me. I looked up and I met the other customers eyes. He looked away quickly, awkward burning all over his skin. He looked young, around my age. He had short blackish, no maybe brownish hair, with short bangs almost like the Asian men have, but he was not Asian, he was clearly White such as myself. Was he also British? Was he from here?  
Merlins beard.  
Why did I even care? 

He didn't look at me again, not even once. But I looked at him. I noticed every detail of him. I couldn't look away. I was watching him, his dark button down was baggie on him, his coller bones showing from the neck hole. His hands that wrapped around his coffee cup were long and slinder, pale as the snow that falls onto the top of your car the first day of winter.  
White untouched beauty. 

That's what I saw while looking at him. I noticed how red his lips looked wrapped around the edge of the coffee cup. His lips reminded me of kissed stain ones you see in the magazines. 

His eyes never looked back up at me. They were glued to the black leather covered journal in front of him. 

Since I was sitting just next to him, side by side just at different tables. If I try to look discreet I can peak over to see what he has been writing away at, what keeps him so invested. I need to know more about this man. Maybe his name would be in side?? Just a small peak wouldn't hurt right? 

"A change of spead  
A change of style  
Change of city, with no regrets   
A chance to watch.  
Admire the distance   
Still occupied  
though you forget.   
Different colors  
Different shades  
Over each mistakes were made.  
I took the blame.  
Directionless so plain to see.   
A loaded gun won't set you free.  
So you say."

I read the words over and over on the page, as did he. He was so into his work and figuring out what to put next he didn't notice me fully reading it, didn't even look at me. At the top of the paper it had the title of this poam. Well it had three with question marks at the end of it.   
"New Colour Fades?"  
"New Chance Fades?"  
"New Dawn Fades?"

I pulled out my camera, flicking it onto the table casually, and angeling it perfectly to capture the side of this man's face, and his journal. 

FLASH

Crap. 

He looked at me puzzled. "What the bloody hell are you doing?" He said, his voice deep, but clearly a British accent. So that answers that question. 

"I-i didn't mean to take that sir I'm so sorry." I choked out, holding my hand out in front of myself. I yelled my name as a form of introducing myself because of my nerves. I held my hand out waiting for him to take it, after a while he did, shaking my smaller hand in his huge pale ones. "My name Is Ian" he said with a small smile playing on his face. 

I felt a blush go up my neck as he just continue to look at me for a moment, then he said "so why have you been stairing at me and my song for the last 20 or so minutes." My heart dropped to the fucking floor. I literally felt my heart fall through my feet, and hit the dirty floor of the coffee shop.

"MAKE A RUN FOR IT, USE THE PICTURE FOR YOUR ASSIGNMENT. GET OUT OF THERE!" I screamed at myself in my head, my eyes were wide. 

"I have this assignment, w-well you see I'm in a photography program in College and my professor said I needed to capture something beautiful, yet depressing and I guess I got lost in the moment while i-i was reading you're song.. I-i know I didn't have any right to do so, I'll rip up the picture i-i promise."

Ian let me babble like an idiot as he watched me closely, the picture was still at the bottom of my camera, ready to be taken out of. I plucked it from the camera showing it to him. "I will rip it up, I didn't mean to offend you in anyway" I said to Ian in a soft voice, my cheeks seddling on a reddish color. He smiled, a genuine smile. 

He picked the photo out of my hands and looked at it. The picture was the side of his face, looking down in concentration at the words, you could only make out the first two verses of the song, but the photo was beautiful. It looked like a haunted man, writing down his inner demons the best he could. I could win with this picture, I could kick Val's arse with this, but Ian had it. It was in his hands. My future was in this man's hands. A man that I didn't even know existed an hour ago.

I watched Ian with scared eyes, as he lifted the picture and placed it into his journal, closing it and placing the journal into his tourn up book bag. I watched speachless as he stood up, sticking some bills underneath his coffee mug. 'Awe so sweet he was tipping" I thought to myself, It was nice that he was caring of that sort of thing. Then he looked at me and smiled, his eyes lighting up as he put the strap of his book bag over his shoulder, then he turned and started to walk.

"Wait, what about the photo?" I blurted out just as he was by the door. He turned around and smiled. "Well I have a show with some of my buddies downtown at the Hook, if you want your photo back you know where to find me." he turned around again, and without turning back around he said "tonight at 8, wear something.. Black" he said then stepped out of the door, heading down the street. I stood up and rushed to the door, stepping out side and watched as he kept walking down the busy street, getting lost in the people. I stood there in amazement after the man, Ian.


End file.
